


Nightman

by LoserEddie



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Bad Touch, Childhood Trauma, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Molestation, Pedophilia, child neglect if you SQUINT, i wrote this while i was having a breakdown, its not fully stated but by GOD is that shit heavily implied, literally charlie just. not having a good time at his moms house, might delete it later. just thinkin about. Things.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:55:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23708746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoserEddie/pseuds/LoserEddie
Summary: Charlie is spending the night at his mom's house. Who knew one bedroom could bring back so many horrid memories?
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	Nightman

He was shaking. He didn’t know why exactly, but as soon as he had laid down, his entire body began trembling. It’s not like a chill from the temperature had suddenly rushed over him. There was a grey comforter over him that sagged off of the ends of the mattress and spilled onto the worn carpet. Maybe the texture of the mattress upset him in some way, as odd as it may sound. The springs were an inch away from breaking through the surface. Not to mention, it was set on the floor, no sort of bed frame to keep it well-adjusted. But over the years, he had grown accustomed to worse. Why would he become so upset over such a small annoyance?

Maybe, instead, it was because of exactly what the bedroom reminded him of. The last time he had slept on that bed was in childhood, when him and his Uncle Jack would have to lay together each night due to a lack of guest rooms. Uncle Jack took over most of the bed. He’d always have one arm over Charlie, sometimes a leg. He would set his chin on the young boy's head, humming. He didn't like it, he remembered that very well. The whole "cuddling" situation was something he could live without, when it came to his uncle, at least. Really, he never could figure out exactly why he didn't like it. 

That was when the Nightman would come. A dark figure looming above him. His voice was soft, sweet, but chilling. It would be only him and Charlie in the room. That was why Charlie never slept alone, which he only caught onto a short while ago. He didn’t want to be abandoned, defenseless, left only to the will of that powerful grip that would make his entire being go numb. In a way, it wasn’t just the hands that made him hurt; it was the crying that followed. Hushed sobbing that would continue until he couldn’t keep his eyes open. 

Perhaps that’s why he shook so terribly. Not even the street lamps peeking through the dark curtains provided any comfort. The Gang must have been asleep by then, he reckoned. There was no reason to call- could he even call? The numbers blurred, and the tears that began to flow from his eyes surely wouldn’t help. If he was lucky, Dennis would pick up, only to get all pissed that his sleep was being ruined and refuse to listen any longer. So all Charlie could do was lay in that all too familiar bed, trying to silence his whimpers as he had so many years before.

The ceiling fan was the only object that reminded him that time continued to pass. It would spin and spin and spin. Like the earth, and occasionally, his vision, if he couldn't quite think straight. He hoped that the gentle squeaking that came from the well-used fan could at least begin to help him fall asleep. If anything, it only brought him right back to those blurred nights. Then, he didn’t have the choice to move. Now, his body simply felt like lead. 

Could he go to his mother for comfort? She had never been there to help before. It wasn’t as if she was aware of the Nightman’s existence, let alone his everlasting presence when he had still loomed in the home. For all he knew, he would be back in that same position any moment, fingers snaking over the arch of Charlie’s back before running through his hair. At first, it felt as if it was a soothing gesture. He never knew something apparently innocent could turn so monstrous. Then again, hadn’t that become the story of his life? Everything changed eventually, mainly for the worse.

He could still remember dreading P.E., already exhausted from the night before. When he got the chance, he would hide behind the bleachers with Mac, quietly chatting until the class ended or they had been pointed out by a snitch. He knew that Mac would have much preferred to be out in the class with those kids, yet neither dared to mention it. That would only leave him sitting alone, left to the depths of his mind. It was unavoidable now. There were no bleachers to protect him from the outside world, no friend to provide him company. In this room, it was only him, him and the Nightman. 

That is, until the doorbell rang. He would have thought it was merely his mind trying to make up for the dull noise, if it hadn’t been rung twice. At first, he was hesitant to rise. Would this awaken the Nightman? He thought so, but then again, his presence may already be known. And, he recognized, as long as he had someone with him, he would be relatively protected. He took a deep breath, and started out of his bedroom. Every step reminded him of just how vulnerable he was. As the room was practically engulfed in darkness, he could be attacked at any side. 

So when he was greeted with the brightness of the slim hallway, a sense of relief washed over him. He stood for a moment, temporarily forgetting the task at hand as he enjoyed the freedom, until the doorbell rang again. He looked back towards his mother’s room - she was fast asleep, thankfully - before opening the front door to find

**Author's Note:**

> who KNOWS when im gonna produce the next chapter


End file.
